


The reason Nesta hates clubs

by unidentifiedblackthorn



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 01:14:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8382241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unidentifiedblackthorn/pseuds/unidentifiedblackthorn
Summary: The second Nesta heard where Elain was spending her birthday at, Nesta knew the night wasn't going to end well. But she didn't think it would end as good as it did bad, apparently, Mor had decided to invite her friends. Nesta had every intention on ignoring their existence for the rest of the night until one of them decided it'd be nice to challenge her.





	

 

Nesta cursed loudly, sneering at the car she practically flew pass by in her hurry to get to the club. Today was Elain's birthday, and Mor decided it'd be fun to celebrate her birthday party in a fucking club.

Beside her, Amren snickered loudly, her legs on the dashboard. Nesta growled at her.

Nesta didn't like clubs. She didn't like sweaty people grinding on one another. She didn't like drunk guys randomly deciding she wanted to dance and trying to grab her waist and grind themselves on her. She didn't like the smoke and the scent. She didn't like how everyone pushed everyone around. She didn't like that she had to wait too long to get a fucking drink from the fucking bar.

Nesta didn't like clubs. She was pretty good at avoiding them.

Nesta preferred bars. Bars were good. They were open. She could play pool. She could sit with her drink and bob her head to the music. Fewer people would bother her. She liked bars; bars were cool. Clubs however, were not.

This is exactly why she was half an hour late to Elain's birthday. She really hadn't wanted to go, but it was Elain. And it was her birthday. And she had texted Nesta saying she was waiting for her, with exclamation marks and everything. Nesta couldn't possibly deny Elain on her birthday. For whatever reason.

So she had sucked up her pride and after Amren came to bother her for the third time that they should go, Nesta sneered at her to get dressed.

Amren hadn't complained at all. Unlike Nesta, Amren enjoyed clubs. (Really, Amren only liked to pretend drunk to lure guys – and girls – in her direction to play with them).

Nesta threw a glance at Amren. "Get your feet off my fucking dash," she snapped, more out of general annoyance than at her.

Of course, Amren applied dark lipstick to her lips in response, her legs still on the dashboard of Nesta's car.

She was dressed much more fit for a club than Nesta was. She had high waisted jeans with a white, long sleeved crop top, black jewelry around her neck that suited the dark lipstick on her lips and heeled boots. While Nesta had put on the first dress she yanked from her closet in her hurry, which was a wine colored dress that ended a few inches above her knees with laced sleeves. She wore no makeup but some lip gloss, her hair in a thick braid over her shoulder. It was too casual for a club, but Nesta didn't care. She was going to sit around with a drink anyway.

Finally, after forty five minutes, they arrived, and after fifteen more minutes, Nesta found a parking close enough that they didn't have to exhaust themselves walking.

Nesta turned off the ignition, and rested her head against the steering wheel with a sigh. She was too riled up. Amren - thankfully - stayed quiet, finally lowering her feet from her dashboard. Nesta sent Elain a quick text, telling her she arrived, and opened her car door to get out, Amren following close behind.

Nesta went to put her phone in her pocket, and cursed loudly because dresses don't have fucking pockets, and she had her money in her bra anyway. She should've remembered she had no pockets. She resisted the powerful urge hurl her phone against a random car.

The club was too full when they entered, but of course, all clubs were. They didn't have to do the line, Amren had connections everywhere and the guard let them pass without a blink. Everything was too dark, with only special effect to light up the big room. Nesta tried to locate Elain, or Feyre, or Mor, or anyone, but it was impossible to see but a few feet in front of her.

"Let's go to the bar," Amren yelled in her ear, and Nesta nodded stiffly in response, pushing her away among a sea of grinding, drunk people with Amrens' hand in hers. Nesta's eyes adjusted to the darkness, towards the bar, and she let Amren order for them. Amren could get anything she wanted with a glare in her eyes and lips pressed in a thin line, so she let Amren do the work.

A few minutes later, her phone buzzed in her hand.

 _Elain_ : _"_ **Great! I was starting to think u wouldn't come!! We're on the oposite side of the bar near the danc floor with some of Mors friends she invited. Fey invited a friend to. Were are u?"**

Nesta's brows furrowed at the text, the horrible grammar, but she craned her neck to see what Elain was talking about, there were some booths along the wall of the club. Nesta accepted Amren's drink, showing her Elain's text.

Amren nodded. "The only other two friends of Mor I know is two guys," she yelled in Nesta's ear.

Nesta took a gulp of her drink, grimacing slightly as it burned down her throat before replying to Elain.

 _Nesta_ : **"I'm on my way."**

The two girls made their way through the dance floor and to the opposite side of the bar where the tables are aligned, and Amren had already lost her drink, spilling on some guy that smacked her ass, though she then winked at him as she turned back to follow Nesta. Nesta couldn't help but release a snort at how the guy's face lit up at her wink in spite of the fact that Amren had spilled alcohol all over his shirt and would probably never even sleep with him. Amren didn't like guys that were easy, Amren liked guys that knew what a danger she actually was, guys that knew they'd have to earn a slight touch from her.

Nesta's eyes searched along the booths for anyone, but it was Amren that finally found them. "There they are! Come on follow me."

Nesta eyes searched in the direction Amren was looking at. There was no mistaking Mor's thick golden locks that fell down her waist, not even from a distance. So Nesta breathed a sigh of relief and followed Amren to their table.

Mor was the first to see them, standing in front of the table, waving them over with an excited smile on her face, even as Azriel had his hands wrapped around her waist, nuzzling her neck. Nesta likes Azriel. He only speaks when necessary and he never tries to make pointless conversation with her. She likes Azriel, but not enough to even spare him a glance as she gets to the table.

"Nesta! Amren! I thought you guys weren't going to show up – " Nesta tuned Mor out. Nesta loved the girl, she really did, but she did not want to deal with small talk at the moment. She wanted to know who the hell was the redheaded guy sitting next to Elain with his face too close to hers, smiling at her as she babbled to the people along the table.

Nesta pressed her lips in a thin line, her gaze traveling along the rest of the booth. Feyre was next to Elain, twirling the straw in her drink as she laughed at the wild gestures Elain was making. A man sat next to her, the little illumination the club was providing showing off his tanned skin and dark hair. He was in deep conversation with another man with long hair that tucked behind his ears and rested on his shoulders, an easy grin on his lips.

"- So I decided to invite a few friends so we can all fun together. Elain really needed a night to remember –"

Elain finally noticed Nesta then. And it took only one glace to notice that Elain was drunk. Too drunk. And Elain was the drunk that babbled. Which didn't really surprised Nesta, Elain was a lightweight, but it did make her scowl. Elain was grinning far too wide, showing off her straight white teeth. Her cheeks were flushed pink, her eyes almost glassy.

"Nesta! Amren!" She yelled, much too excitedly. If it was any other person, the expression on Nesta's face and on Amren amused one, would've gotten people running the other way. But Elain started to push the redheaded man from her side so she could get out of her seat, giggling wildly as she did so.

When the redhead got out of the seat, Elain jumped on her feet, and giggled at something he whispered in her ear, making Nesta stand up straighter and growl. He, of course, didn't hear her, but Amren did and she snickered.

"Nesta! Hi! I missed you so much, I –" It has only been a few hours since they last saw each other when Nesta gave Elain her present, and they all lived together. Nesta sighed, trying not to be annoyed.

Everyone's attention immediately turned towards Nesta and Amren as Elain babbled, even the attention of the two unknown males sitting at the table and the redhead. Elain ran into Nesta's arms giggling, wrapping her arms around Nesta's neck, almost making Nesta spill her drink behind her back. "I love your present so much! Well, I don't love the present cuz it's not a thing! It's a kitten! A kitten isn't a _thing_!" Elain giggled hysterically, but Nesta was barely paying attention. She was glaring intently at the redheaded man that had whispered in sweet Elain's ear. He had a huge scar that ran along his eye, and Nesta's eyes narrowed even further, he had the decency to look unnerved, his cheeks flushing and looking away even as Nesta stared holes into him, returning Elain's hug with the hand holding her phone.

"He's so cute, Nesta! Where did you even get! –" Elain broke away from the hug, seeming unaware that everyone was staring at them, and looking at Nesta at arms' length. "Oh! And the flowers painted along the litter box!" She shook her head dramatically. "The most beautiful thing my eyes have ever laid on!"

Nesta finally looked at Elain excited grin on her face. Her cheeks were red, her brown eyes shining, her breath smelled like cherry, but the excited, honest and carefree grin on her face made Nesta's eyes soften. "You already thanked me, Elain."

Elain threw her head back sharply, widening her eyes at the ceiling. "No, no, no!" She said, shaking her head profusely. "I have to thank you again! Again! Again Nesta! Thank you, Nesta! You're the best – !"

Elain finally seemed to notice she had a crowd staring behind her because she turned, her arms still wrapped around Nesta's neck.

"Oh no!" she yelled dramatically, closing her eyes briefly. "I haven't introduce you! How rude!" She turned her head to the side at Amren. "And Amren!" She pointed a finger at Amren, trying to keep from giggling, keeping a serious face, her eyebrows furrowing. "I haven't forgotten you Amren! I love you!" Amren raised her cup at her in acknowledgement, smirking at her.

"Back at you Eli." Amren replied. Elain nodded firmly, as though she was just told she needed to complete a mission, and Nesta looked back at the table to see Feyre slamming her hand on it laughing, the two males next to her chuckling happily. The redhead guy seemed to want to laugh as well, but a sharp glare from Nesta had him looking away again. Mor and Azriel appeared next to the two males, Azriel chuckling at Elain while Mor giggled.

"Okay!" Elain said loudly, finally releasing her hands from Nesta's neck, and turning towards the small crowd. "This – " she pointed a finger at Nesta, then swung an arm around her stiff shoulder. "Is my sister. Not Feyre! My _other_ sister. Nesta. This is my sister older Nesta." Elain didn't even seem capable of making sentences. She pointed her finger at Nesta again. "I love her _very_ much. She bought me a kitten! How can you not love her! She's the coolest sister ever! – Oh no! Feyre you're cool too! – " Mor was losing it laughing, and Nesta could hear the loud laughter of the two unknown males next to Feyre.

"Feyre is very cool! Feyre –" she pointed a finger at Feyre. "I love you!" she said fiercely, and Feyre gasped for air as she laughed.

Nesta did not sign up for this.

Elain gasped dramatically again. "Oh no!" She looked at the group worriedly, then stared at the redheaded male she was talking to. "You can't tell her we dance together, Lucien! Or that you accidentally touched my ass! She'll cut off your penis!" By now the table was roaring with laughter, and the redheaded guy looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. While Nesta remained with her unimpressed look, her spine stiffening and her eyes narrowing slightly on the so called Lucien.

Elain turned back towards Nesta, and hurriedly placed her hands over her mouth, as though Nesta wouldn't hear what she was saying if she placed her hand over her lips. "Oh no! Lucien! If she doesn't like you right now, she never will! And Nesta is very important to me, so it's important that she likes you! I like Nesta, and I like you. But if Nesta doesn't like you, then you should like Nesta! So she could like you back, see?!"

Mor doubled over laughing, wiping tears from her cheeks.

Elain finally removed her hand from Nesta's mouth, and looked at Nesta innocently, as though Nesta hadn't heard everything. "Okay Nesta, this is Luci – Ah! Wait!" Elain stumbled toward Amren, and wrapped her hands around her stomach, snuggling her neck, and giving her an abrupt hug. She released Amren and came to Nesta's side again, standing straighter.

"Okay!" Elain yelled. She gestured at Lucien, who sat down at the table with his cheeks flushed. "This is Lucien, he touched my ass and said it was accidental, but I liked it so I didn't mind, so you shouldn't mind either!"

Amren and the rest of the crowd burst out laughing again, even as Lucien shrunk farther in his seat, throwing a careful glance at Nesta. She sneered at him. He looked back down again.

"This is Feyre! – oh wait! You know Feyre already." Elain giggled. "We're sisters! Right?!" Elain looked at Nesta for conformation, and Nesta nodded stiffly. "Okay! This –" she pointed a finger at the guy sitting next to Feyre. Now that she was closer, she could look at him better. He was attractive to say the least. "This is Resand!" The guy laughed, shaking his head. "Oh! No, no, no! He's _Rhysand,_ right?!" She looked at the guy for conformation, and he nodded with a smirk on his lips. Elain pointed both her fingers at him, lifting a knee and winking at him dramatically.

Rhysand nodded his head toward Nesta, smiling warmly at her. Nesta looked at him coldly, accessed if he was a threat – he probably was – and ignored his smile and nod, her gaze flicking to the male next to him.

"Okay and this –" she pointed her finger at the guy with the long hair. "This is Cassian! He bought me a drink and intimidated a guy that got too close to me so you should like him Nesta!"

The guy named Cassian grinned at her. A full feral grin; one that made him look way too attractive. His eyes didn't waver from Nesta's and in that moment Nesta knew. He was dangerous. Dangerous, this male.

She offered him nothing and turned to look at Elain as she bounded toward Amren, introducing her to the crowd, even though Amren already knew everyone. And even then, when she glanced at Cassian from the corner of her eye, he was still staring at her, grin intact.

"C'mon guys! Come sit!" Elain yelled, clapping her hands together.

Everyone started to move to leave Nesta and Amren some space, and Nesta snarled at having to sit next to Cassian. He stared at her almost curiously.

Mor appeared then. "They're friends of Azriel and mine. They're chill. Don't worry about them, you can trust them." she said into Nesta's ear.

Nesta scoffed. "I don't trust anybody," she said, and moved to sit next to Cassian, Amren at her right.

Mor smiled at her as though amused, Azriel at her hip. "Well, I'm gonna go dance, see y'all later!" And just like that, Mor and Azriel were gone, lost among a sea of people.

"Bye Mor!" Elain skipped towards Luciens' side, and tapped his shoulder, smiling at him. He got up, the muscles of his arms stiff and let her get inside the booth, and she sat next to Feyre, almost buzzing.

Lucien had a long braid that went down his back, and Elain – god Elain – twirled it around her finger as he sat down, getting too close for Nesta's comfort, though he remained a safe distance away from her face. But it was Elain who leaned closer, pressing her nose against the side of his neck. "You smell so good!"

Lucien looked like he was ready to die. Whether it was because he was horny or uncomfortable, Nesta didn't know. But she did feel every muscle in her spine stiffen, her eyes trained on his hands like a hawk. Ready to shove Elain away from the man.

"Relax, Archeron," Amren said, and Nesta turned and snarled at her. She hated being called by her last name. "Let her get some tonight. It's her birthday." Amren reached towards Nesta's cup casually, gulping down some of her drink.

"I will not let my sister – my extremely _drunk_ sister – sleep with a man she's never met before this night," she hissed.

Amren gave her an unimpressed look. "It's not really your call to make," she said, and Nesta could feel her skin boiling.

"I'd rather not have to deal with her crying her eyes out for the next week," Nesta said coldly, snatching her up from Amren's fingers.

Amren furrowed her eyebrows, and nodded. Nesta knew her sister, she knew Elain. And she also knew that sober Elain would never sleep with a guy she just met, even less so if she met that guy in a club. Nesta knew that if things escalated with Lucien tonight, Elain would cry for an entire week and regret it more than she regretted dating her last asshole boyfriend.

She could feel Cassian watching her, feel his thigh brush hers as he adjusted his legs. Nesta didn't spare him a glance. Instead, she sipped her drink and met eyes with Feyre. Feyre nodded her head at her in greeting, giving her a small smile, and Nesta only nodded in response, sipping her drink and keeping a careful eye on Elain.

Finally, Cassian turned his head away from hers and in Rhysand's direction, whispering in his ear. Something inside Nesta wondered what he was whispering about.

"I'm gonna go get another drink, do you want another?" Amren asked. Nesta looked down her cup, there was very little in it, and she knew she needed alcohol so she wouldn't drag Lucien away from Elain from that long braid of his. So Nesta nodded, gulping some of the drink down.

She placed her cup on the table and shoved her hand down her bra, getting a ten dollar bill out. She gave it to Amren, flatly telling her to get herself something to drink too.

"I'm just gonna get a beer, I think you deserve to loosen up a little too so don't worry, if worse comes to worst, I'll drive Elain home."

Nesta nodded gratefully, she wasn't planning on getting drunk at all, but it's nice not having to worry about how much she has to drink when she had Amren.

"Does anyone else need to pee?! I have to pee. I'm gonna go pee!" Elain exclaimed, bumping her hip repeatedly against Lucien's so he'd move again. Once he stood up, Elain jumped after him, patting her hands on his chest. "Thank you!" She said, looking deeply into his eyes as though he had done something meaningful to her when he only moved so she could get up. Nesta snarled, her cup on her lips, as Lucien placed a hand on Elain's waist so she wouldn't fall over when some drunk shoved her. She hissed at the drunk as Elain giggled, running her finger down Lucien's jaw.

Nesta stiffened, and was about to rise and accompany Elain to the bathroom - god knows what could happen to her alone in a bathroom - but Feyre beat her to it.

"Elain you can't go alone to the bathroom in public places like these. C'mon let's go together."

Elain jumped excitedly, giving Lucien her back, her skirts swishing around his legs. "Oh thank you Feyre!"

Nesta was just about tired of being here.

Feyre slid out of the seat, looped elbows with Elain, and disappeared through the crowd.

And Nesta was suddenly alone with three males she had never met before this night. There was silence along the table. But Nesta didn't care if her unreadable face made them uncomfortable.

Her eyes zeroed on Lucien, and she stared holes into him. He tried to ignore her, scrolling along his phone, but he glanced at her from the corner of his eyes, then he lifted his head slightly in her direction, and their gazes suddenly met.

She wasted no time.

"Who are you?" she said, coldly. She refused to raise her voice, and even though there were two males between him and her, she can see his throat bob as he swallowed, processing the question.

She can see the guy named Cassian look between the two of them, before his gaze remained trained on her. She didn't look away from Lucien's brown eyes.

"I'm - i'm one of Feyre's friends," he yelled, fiddling with the sides of his phone.

She narrowed her eyes. She never liked any of Feyre's friends expect for Amren. And with the protective - Nesta calls it possessive - boyfriend Feyre has... Nesta doesn't like anyone that isn't Amren, her sisters or Mor. It's just how she is.

"I'm Tamlin's cousin," he offered. Nesta's spine stiffened immediately, and she stood straighter.

She could see the exact moment Lucien knew he had fucked up.

Tamlin, who barely lets Feyre out of his sight. Tamlin, who insists she be showered with clothes he wanted her to wear. Tamlin, who insist Feyre and Ianthe get along in spite of the numerous times Feyre tells him she doesn't like her.

It's an actual miracle Tamlin wasn't here tonight. He was at some meeting, Nesta doesn't really care enough to remember. He goes wherever Feyre goes. Feyre wants a night out with just the girls? He goes along. Feyre wants to wear shorts? He makes sure it's a least above her knees before he lets her go anywhere.

Nesta does not like Tamlin. Nesta hates Tamlin.

"Telling me you're related to a tool certainly isn't making me treat you like anything less than trash," she said flatly, her fingers clenching in fists on her lap.

She felt Cassian stiffen next to her. She didn't care.

Lucien winced, his eyes widening. "Ah - well -"

But a sudden though popped in Nesta's head.

"Did _Tamlin_ tell you to come here?" She seethed, eyes hard, jaw clenched.

Lucien looked like he had just been pounded with a brick. "Wha - no. Wha - why would -" he stuttered, refusing to meet her stare.

"Speak coherently," she snarled feeling her skin crawl. All too aware of Rhysand and Cassian's stares.

This wasn't just about Elain anymore, this was about both her sisters. Nesta had already failed them one too many times, she wasn't going to do it again.

Lucien glanced up, swallowed thickly, and straighten, as though that would make her cower back or make her understand him. Pathetic.

"Why would Tamlin tell me to come here?" If Nesta wasn't so enraged, she would've applauded him. He managed to say an entire sentence without stuttering.

Nesta hardened her eyes. "To make sure you followed Feyre around since he couldn't." She saw Rhysand still. "To make sure she doesn't fuck guys a hundred time better than that worthless piece of -"

"Woah what did i miss here." Amren appeared suddenly, drinks on each hand. Nesta's head snapped toward hers, her fingers digging into the palm of her hands. Amren gave Nesta a pointed look, her eyes gazing around he table before settling on Nesta again. "Why are you scaring Elain's toy for the night?"

Nesta thought she could actually feel her blood boiling beneath her skin. And for the briefest second, she saw herself punching Amren in the throat, if it had been any other person than Amren, Nesta thinks she would've done it.

"He's related to Tamlin," Nesta spat over the music, making no move to reach for her drink.

Amren arched her eyebrows. "Tamlin the Tool?" She shook her head mockingly, taking her seat next to Nesta. "Shouldn't have told her that, buddy," she said to Lucien, placing Nesta's drink in front of her.

Lucien looked so lost and nervous, Nesta would've bought his act had Tamlin not acted the same exact way when Nesta met him.

Now with Amren giving Lucien a sly look, and Nesta giving one that promised death, sweat started gathering around his brow.

"Me and Tamlin are't really close," he tried.

"Must be close enough if you claim Feyre invited you," Nesta cut in flatly.

He winced. "Well, i used to live with Tamlin for - a while and -"

"Peeing was such a weird experience!" Elain screamed out of nowhere, Feyre clasped firmly on her side. Lucien jumped in his seat, and the relief on his face was immediate. Amren snickered while Nesta growled.

Elain's ash blonde hair was a mess of curls around her neck, sticking to her forehead and cheeks, her brown eyes bright. Elain grasped both of Lucien's shoulders, shaking him. Nesta saw him tense. "There were people making out in the hall!" she exclaimed. "And a couple was even having sex in one of the stalls! As i released my bladder i could literally hear the guys' sac hitting the girls ass right next to me!" She turned her head toward Nesta. "It was so weird Nesta you should've come!"

Feyre was doubling over laughing, it was obvious she had too much to drink, and Rhysand was chuckling as well. Cassian remained staring at Nesta, his head cocking to the side.

"I'd rather not hear people having sex. Thanks Elain," Nesta said dryly, eyes tracking every movement Lucien did as he stood to let Feyre and Elain slid into the booth.

Elain shrugged happily. "So weird!" she said excitedly, then turned toward Feyre and proceeded to remind her of the experience.

Nesta finally had enough of Cassian's stare, had enough of him studying her like someone would do to an interesting opponent. She turned to him. "What are you looking at?" she snarled softly.

His eyebrows rose, no amusement traced his face. Everyone at the table silenced, even Elain, it was as though someone placed a sheet of tension over everyone in the booth.

"Someone who arrives an entire two hours late to her sister's birthday despite the fact that she lives with her. Someone who sat here like a queen on her throne, in spite of the fact that she let a fourteen - year - old go the street and beg for food." Ah, so drunk Elain had told him what Feyre did to keep their family from starving. "Your sister came here to have fun. So don't expect me to sit here with my mouth shut while you sneer at the guy that has made her laugh all night just because he's related to someone you don't like."

Nesta studied him, not even batting an eyelash. He had handsome features, a sharp jaw, bright hazel eyes, some stubble along his neck and jawline. He had a muscled chest under his dark blue shirt, the guy must some serious work out.

He was attractive she'll give him that. Too bad that was the only thing he had going for him.

Nesta turned away from him. Dismissing him entirely.

She focused her gaze back on Elain, and felt more than saw Cassian stiffen. From the corner of her eye she could see the feral looked that crossed his face. A look that told her that he was not used to have women ignoring his presence, or dismissing him as though he were nothing more than a bastard born nobody.

Nesta relished in knowing that he thought he was a wolf circling a doe, too bad. She was a mountain cat wearing its hide instead.

Elain, sensing a fire rising, said, her voice wobbling, "Cassian, let's be happy yes?" She giggled nervously. "And don't worry! Sometimes i think Nesta was born with a sneer on her lips. And as for Feyre being on the streets, it wasn't Nesta's neglect the only thing to blame! We were scared, and we had hope that our father would step up! So so much hope Cassian! And - and we both failed her, we failed Feyre. Both of us! Nesta is not the only one to blame!" Elain finished, a nervous look in her eyes, her lips wobbling with a tentative smile.

Nesta said nothing, her back rigid, her drink untouched.

It was Feyre who spoke then, her tone much softer. "Can we just... start over?"

Nesta remained silent, her pride barking at her not to back down. But it was Elain's birthday's, and Elain was staring at her with wide hopeful eyes.

Cassian, damn him, gave Nesta a taunting grin, a grin that told Nesta that he had successfully gotten what he wanted. Every fiber in Nesta's being roared to ignore everyone entirely, but she merely hissed. "Fine." And brought her drink to her lips, swallowing more of the burning liquor than necessary.

The tension in the booth seemed to settle slightly after that. Elain turned toward Rhysand and started babbling something at him and Feyre, bringing Lucien into the conversation, Amren stared out at the crowd, her beer at her lips. But Nesta was aware of Cassian at her side, watching her, watch every bob of her throat as she swallowed.

Nesta kept her gaze on Lucien though, he seemed to have loosen up slightly and was smiling at whatever Elain was saying, though there was no mistaken how within every few seconds, he threw Nesta a glance, aware of her following his every move.

Amren whispered in Nesta's ear after a while, saying she was going to dance.

"Be back here in an hour, just in case," Nesta said, her gaze forward, and Amren nodded before disappearing in the crowd.

After another fifteen minutes, Nesta was done with her drink and in need of another one, but the thought that she had to walk amidst a sea of grinding drunk people kept her glued to her seat. She tapped her finger on her thigh in beat with the music, and when she saw a sever pass by, she almost bolted from her seat.

She told the middle aged man her drink, got her money from her bra, and gave it to him. Five minutes later, Nesta was drowning a much stronger drink, her eyes now glued on Feyre, who seemed to be in too deep conversation with Rhysand, sitting so close to him their noses almost touched. Cassian seemed to be content to just watch Nesta swallow her drink moodily, and his stare didn't bother her so much now that she was much calmer.

When Nesta drowned her third drink she was starting to feel much too relaxed for her liking, leaning further into her seat.

"Me and Rhys are going to dance," Feyre announced loudly.

Nesta threw her a sharp look, then snapped her eyes at Lucien. He was grinning softly at Elain as she leaned her head against the seat of the booth talking to him, her eyes still bright and cheeks still flushed.

"Are you going to move, sweetheart." Cassian's breath on her ear made her heart jump in her throat, her back stiffening only slightly at the purr of his voice.

His breath smelled like alcohol, and his mouth was too close to her face. His full lips were flushed a healthy pink, and his hazel eyes shone even in the shadows of the club. The curl on his lips made her remember that she didn't like him.

Her eyes darted away from his face, to Rhysand who was looking at Nesta with an arched brow, surprise and amusement dancing along his ... mismatched eyes?

"What," Nesta snapped, seeing Rhysand half rising from his seat, Cassian's breath stirring ear. Nesta suppressed a shiver.

Cassian bumped her hip against hers, and Nesta understood, but her blood roared at her to stay put, to stare at them coldly and tell Rhysand to exit the other way, break Lucien and Elain up too, until she caught the look in Feyre's eye. She looked at Nesta with flushed cheek and hard eyes. Nesta slid out of her seat just then.

She stood, Cassian at her side, as Rysand brushed pass her. "It'll only be for a little while," Rhysand said to her. Nesta didn't look at him. But she did grasp Feyre's arm before she would brush pass Nesta too.

"Careful," she said in Feyre's ear. "I know this might seem like a good idea now, but Lucien is right there and you literally just met Rhysand."

Feyre rolled her eyes, but Nesta could see the sudden worry on them, the constant thought about what Tamlin might say or do, before Feyre shook it off. "I'm not sleeping with the guy. Besides, Lucein won't tell, he's too busy making eyes at Elain." And she threw Nesta a wink and disappeared, Rhysand's hand in hers.

Nesta sighed, slipping back into her seat, making sure there was a safe distance between her and Cassian. It was nice seeing her youngest sister have fun, be free. She's been so tangled between what Tamlin wants and doing everything to his liking, that she barely gets to go out and have fun. But there was no denying that dancing with a stranger in a club wasn't perhaps the safest way to have fun.

So Nesta kept a careful eye on Feyre. Truth be told, Nesta could only get a glimpse of her here and there, but Nesta knew her sister. Besides, Rhysand's tall form leaning over to whisper in her sister's ear, both hand clasped firmly on her waist as Feyre grinded on his crotch was hard to miss to Nesta's eyes.

She's interrupted from her staring by Mor and Azriel suddenly appearing, a waitress holding a bottle by their side.

"Shots!" Mor yelled, placing four shot glasses on the table, Azriel placing another five next to them.

Elain squealed excitedly, and Nesta could hear Cassian's rumbling laugh as the waitress filled the shot glasses.

"Wait where's Rhys, Feyre and Amren?" Mor asked, the question not specifically addressed to anyone.

"Dancing," Cassian said, smirking.

Mor shrugged happily and thanked the waitress.

Everyone reached for the shots, even Nesta. Everyone but Lucien. "Ah nah. I'm not drinking tonight," he said when Elain offered him one. Nesta thought he would crack under Elain's pout but he managed to make her smile by saying that she needed someone to keep her in check.

Nesta snarled at him for that. She was fully capable of keeping her sister in check, she thought, even as she drowned her shot, Mor, Elain and Cassian doing the same. She expected it to burn down her throat, and was mildly surprised to find out it taste sweet, fruity. Nesta hated drinks like these, where she forgot she was drinking alcohol simply because it tasted so good.

Elain laughed as she drowned her shot, then reached for one of the four that were meant for Rhysand, Feyre, Lucien and Amren. Nesta eyes widened, and she knew that if Elain drank any more, she would be a vomiting mess.

Just as Elain was reaching for the shot, Nesta's hand was prepared to shoot to grasp before she could. But Cassian beat her to it. His hand snatched the shot Elain was reaching for, and he drank it in one gulp, smiling innocently at Elain's pout.

Nesta tried to suppress it, but she couldn't help it. She snorted at both Cassian and Elain's faces.

The sound seemed to have startled Cassian, and he threw her his shit eating grin. A grin that, no doubt, had women throwing their panties at him. A few more drinks, and Nesta thought she might turn out to be on of those women.

She gave him a scowl.

Nesta snatched the another shot, before Elain could get any ideas, and swallowed, her gaze on Cassian, aware of his unabashed stare on her throat as it bobbed. He met her eyes then, seeing the look in them, the challenge in them, and reached for one of the two shots left, gulping it down with a grin, his eyes never wavering from hers.

Nesta's pride roared in her veins, to win, and just as she was reaching for the last shot, Elain's slender fingers snatched it up so quickly, half of it spilled on the table. Elain didn't seem to care as she drowned it happily, giving Nesta a sharp glare before laying her head on Lucien's shoulder, pouting against his tanned skin.

Mor laughed, and skipped her way next to Lucien, shoving him aside so Azriel could fit. The movement forcing Nesta to scoot aside, and for Cassian's thigh to meet hers again.

Nesta rolled her eyes at Elain, leaning back against the cushion of the booth seats, glancing in Feyre's directions to make sure Rhysand hadn't dragged her in a corner and killed her. She squinted against the darkness of the dance floor, panicking momentarily, but there she was, still grinding herself on Rhysand's crotch as he whispered in her ear.

"You know," Cassian whispered in the shell of Nesta's ear. "I kinda want to dance."

Nesta's skin prickled, and not in a bad way.

She glanced at the dance floor, it would be way better to keep an eye on her sister if she was there. But there was a problem, two problems actually. Nesta hated clubs, and she knew that just half an hour ago she didn't like Cassian. She wasn't going to lie, she was not a lightweight, but she was no heavyweight either, so she turned to Cassian, hardened her eyes and hissed. "Let's go."

Cassian grinned at her as she stood and slid out her seat, and he followed close behind, too close for Nesta from half an hour ago's liking. But the Nesta from now decided not to comment on it.

"Where are you going?" Mor yelled, brown eyes confused.

"Keep an eye on my sister," Nesta replied at the same time Cassian said with an amused smile,

"She invited me for a dance!"

Nesta sneered at him, before turning toward Lucien. She gave him her coldest, dirtiest glare, and he stiffened, giving her an awkward smile. But Azriel was at the table, and he was completely sober except for the one shot glass, so Nesta didn't worry so much about leaving Lucien alone with Elain. Still, she met Azriel eyes.

He seemed surprise by the hidden message in her eyes, but still nodded and gave her a soft smile. Nesta gave him a small nod of her head and her back in response.

And then Cassian was grasping her hand and shouldering his way among the sea of people, Nesta keeping close to his back. The heat of his hand not exactly unwelcome, but not welcome either, it was rather hot being inside the mess of dancing people. He stopped just a few feet away from Rhysand and Feyre, and she wondered if he knew that Feyre's the reason Nesta's here with him right now.

At least that's what she told herself.

He turned toward her, grinning lopsidedly, his eyes shining even in the little illumination the special effects provided. She swiftly turned, giving him her back, not wanting to see his face or else she'd do something stupid. He still had her hand in his, his large hand engulfing hers, and she moved closer to him, her back against his chest, his large, bulky form nearly dwarfing her own had she not been standing straight as a pin, her gaze sharp as that of a fox's.

But she still guided his hand in her in own to her waist. He wrapped his hand around her waist, the other one soon joining, and they swayed slightly as everyone around them jumped and grinded on one another. She was slightly surprised that he was just content on swaying with her, but appreciated nonetheless. She wrapped her arms around her stomach, his chest a solid wall of muscle she leaned on, her eyes focused on Feyre. She tried to ignore the way her heart started gaining speed in her chest, but it was unavoidable.

She liked his body behind hers, his hands on her waist, scorching her even through her dress, never wavering or traveling further than where they gripped her firmly, was almost grounding, reminding her of who she was and what she was doing.

"You're not quite what i was expecting," he drawled, lips brushing the shell of her ear.

"Oh," she said flatly, eyes trained on Rhysand's hands and how they never strayed from Feyre's hips either, even as she danced down his body, hips swaying side to side. "What exactly did you expect?"

He paused for a long moment, processing her sarcastic question.

"From the way Elain spoke about you, so nonchalantly, like it was normal for you to sneer at everyone and treat everyone like shit, i expected a bitch," he whispered, as though waiting for her to defend herself. His breath fanned at her already sweaty neck. The hair along her arms rose in spite of the fact that Nesta was so hot in this mess of people that the hair that escaped from her braid was starting to stick to her skin.

Nesta kept swaying, though her back stiffened. "I don't explain myself to people whose opinion doesn't matter to me."

She felt more than she heard his growl, and the rumbling in his chest made her arch herself toward him, barely really, merely an inch, her ass connecting with his crotch. It was instinctive, the alcohol making her feel much too relaxed, making her do things she usually thought through. But he noticed, even though the movement shouldn't have been noticeable at all. He tightened his hands on her waist ever so slightly, and he exhaled into her neck.

She thought she could actually feel his anger at her earlier words, feel it in the air, feel the tension. Now though, she could only feel frustration in the way grasped her waist.

"What a delight you are, Nesta Archeron," he ground the words in her ear, his voice so rough it was hard to detect the sarcasm in his tone.

Nesta had her eyes opened, but they were unseeing, she doesn't know exactly when she stopped looking at Feyre, so her gaze searched for her sister again before replying.

"Most people would use other words," she said, trying too hard to sound flat. He had a very attractive voice, and her tipsy self was getting way too attracted to him than she was before. Not that sober Nesta hadn't found him attractive. Not at all. Sober Nesta knew how to deal with attractive people though, tipsy Nesta however, needed a few reminders.

She pressed herself harder against him as a girl stumbled backwards and fell on the back of an unknown man, pressing herself harder than she had intended to. Okay so Nesta like the way his breath hitched near her ear, so what? She liked torturing him.

"You're playing with fire, sweetheart." So he caught up with her little game.

Normal Nesta would've sent him an unimpressed glare, but tipsy Nesta merely scoffed. He thought he was fire? Nesta herself was gasoline.

She heard and felt Cassian's sarcastic laugh. She felt him shake his head, then press his face to the side of her neck. "Though i don't know what i'm talking about, you've been here for less than two hours and i know fire and steel burns beneath this delicious skin of yours." He brushed his nose under her ear, his voice soft. Nesta tilted her head back against his shoulder, her eyes sliding partly shut as they swayed to an upbeat remix that had everyone jumping with their fists in the air.

"You know nothing about me," she said, even as she pressed herself harder against him. Being inside the mass of drunk people Nesta had wanted to avoid, while having too much to drink, had not been a good idea near a man as attractive as Cassian.

His hands tightened on her waist, and swiftly turned her around toward him. Nesta nearly stumbled at the movement, being caught by surprise, and her hands clutched at his shoulders. They were so close, her chest pressed against his, her breasts nearly spilling from the lace covering her collarbone by how hard they were pressed to each other. Yet he seemed fixated on her mouth.

"I want to know what kissing you feels like," he murmured, nose grazing hers. His breath smelled like alcohol and cherry and sweet temptation.

She studied his face, his hazel eyes almost hooded, a lock of hair resting along his jaw, the bob of his throat as he swallowed thickly, his tongue running over his lips. He had very good looking lips, full and pink. And so what if Nesta kissed him? She'd be getting a kiss in return, a good one probably, Cassian didn't seem like the type of guy who didn't know how to kiss. Beside, a kiss would be the exact perfect way to torture him.

His eyes met hers, and he gave her a grin, hands spreading wide over her back, so there wouldn't be an inch between his body and hers, not even enough for his thumbs to remain hooked over her waist.

She ran her hands over his shoulders, the sides of his neck, and she couldn't even hear the music of the club, could barely notice the sweat that coated her body from being in such close place filled with people, could feel anything other than Cassian's hands on her back and her hands on his shoulders.

But tipsy Nesta wasn't drunk enough to grant him anything he wanted. Not with sober Nesta roaring at her to torture him, to give him what he wanted, but not enough.

So Nesta rose on the tips of her toes, slid her fingers into his hair - tried not to startle by how soft it was - and pulled him towards her. Only to tug him back before their mouths could collide. Her bottom lip touched his barely, but she could see how his pupils expanded.

She had to suppress a smirk when his grin vanished abruptly, his eyes shutting tight before widening. She pressed her brow against his, running her thumb along his jaw, along the small hint of stubble there. He growled in anticipation, maybe even in desperation. She hoped it was the latter.

Nesta smirked openly now, relishing how he couldn't seem to decide between staring at her lips or her eyes and the malice in them.

His hand climbed up her back, along the curve of her spine, her shoulder blades, until it reached her neck, and his hand was so big his thumb reached her cheek and his fingers curled on the back of her head. Still, he didn't push, he simply waited, his heart galloping against her breasts.

She smiled, and parted her lips. And took his full, bottom lip between her teeth and roughly pulled it toward her.

She saw his eyes widen, and a surprised groan tore itself from his throat. His hand on the nape of her neck didn't allow her to yank his lip back like she wanted to so she sucked it in her mouth, loving how he pulled her closer, how his heart jumped in his chest, but he refused to close his eyes, leaving them half lidded and looking at her in such a way made her feel vulnerable.

So she released his lip, and then his eyes widened and he gasped, and the moment was over. Or at least she thought it was.

He tightened his hand on the nape of her neck, brushing his nose along hers as his eyes slid shut. "That wasn't a kiss", he gasped, forehead against hers.

She blinked, studying his reaction. Then blinked again.

"Oh, I thought you had finished in your pants and needed a break," she said, because she couldn't think of anything else. He was right, that wasn't a kiss, but she hadn't meant to do that at all either.

He choked on a laugh, his hand on her lower back wandering upwards. "It's going to take a little more than that to even get me hard, sweetheart."

She sneered at him for that, and hated him for biting back at her when anyone else wouldn't cowered away. But she barely had time to think before he smashed his lips against hers.

They were so soft, was Nesta's first thought. Her own lips slightly chapped. She froze for barely a second, and then she responded. Furious, furious that he had taken her so by surprise, _she_ was supposed to be the one ahead of things. She plunged her tongue between his lips, devouring his groan and she - she couldn't stop - couldn't get enough. His tongue met hers, and he tasted like bitter alcohol, and cherry and sweet, sweet temptation. So sweet Nesta wanted to keep his flavor on the tip of her tongue. Bottle it and keep for as long and she pleased.

She pulled at his hair, her fingers digging into his scalp hard enough that it had to hurt, and she didn't know when she had closed her eyes but everything was dark and there was only Cassian's lips and hands on her, body pressed to hers, lighting sizzling between them. She thought she might've moaned because Cassian bit her lip hard, then ran his tongue along the bruised skin to sooth the sting.

She curled her arms around his neck, and his hands slid down her back to her hips, nearly lifting her off her feet. Something throbbed in her and it had been so long since she'd been with another male that this, just kissing, made her feel more alive than she ever could by her own hand.

He kissed along her cheek, and trailed a wet path down her her jaw. She bared her throat, and he wasted no time in mapping it with his lips, teeth and tongue. She gasped when he sucked lightly on her skin and bit the pulse that beat erratically in her throat, feeling need crawl itself into her body and settling at her core. Nesta lifted a knee, desperately needing to hook it over his hip, to have some friction, _anything_. But she only succeeded in bringing it between his legs. He moaned into her neck when her knee graced his hard on.

And he _was_ hard. Straining against the fly of his pants. She couldn't figure out how big he was but he was thick, that much was obvious. She brought her knee up again, her back arching and her eyes shut, the music and people around her a distant buzz in her head, and stroked it along his jeans.

"Fuck." She loved the way he whimpered desperately in her neck. He pressed his forehead along the curve of her shoulder, breathing hard, his hands on her hips to keep her from arching backwards and ravished her neck again. She brought her leg back to the ground before her balance failed, and heard his growl vibrate in her neck. He trailed a wet path along her collarbone, one of his hands rising to push down some of the lace that covered the top of her chest, bearing her cleavage to his hungry mouth.

Nesta opened her eyes almost dizzily, moaning, her eyes slowly training on the ceiling of the club - the _ceiling_ of the club. The special effects lighting up the ceiling with blues and green. The ceiling of the _club_.

She startled back so hard, had it not been for his hand on her waist, she would've crashed into the people behind her - _the_ _people behind her._

_God._

Feyre. Elain - Dear god this was Elain's party.

She yanked her arms from his neck and stumbled backwards, and his fingers released the grip they had on the lace of her dress and snapped to her back to prevent her from falling backward on her ass to the ground. His feet were spread on either side of hers, leaning over her to keep her in place.

He raised his head to meet her eyes, his bright hazel eyes now dark, his pupils blown wide, filled with lust and concern by the look on her face.

Because Nesta was livid.

She was panting and she had his saliva all over her neck and she was supposed to be watching after Feyre. She was wet, in more ways than one, and she was in a fucking club with both her sisters and their friends. And she was making out with a complete _stranger_ _._ She - she had let her walls down. This complete stranger had gotten through her. She wanted a _complete stranger_ to fuck her on the dance floor of a fucking club.

Cassian seemed to notice this a little later than she did. And she watched as he gazed at the people around them as if wondering if they had been there before.

Well, they were and -

"Let me go," she seethed, and hated how breathless she sounded.

He seemed baffled, and stepped back so she could straighten, and before he could ask what was wrong, or growl, or mock her, Nesta turned and shoved people out of the way, making her way to the booth with her head high and her back rigid, the apex between her thighs throbbing and her lips swollen. She clenched her hands in fists, resisting the urge to cover the skin of her cleavage Cassian had revealed, where his saliva shone instead of sweat. By the time she sat in the booth, her walls were up so high and strong, not even Mor dared to ask her what was wrong.

Nesta still had a hard time catching her breath. But one thing she knew for sure, she was never stepping foot in a club ever again.


End file.
